


Fallen to Heaven

by Spklvr



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cabin, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Murder Husbands, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 23:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spklvr/pseuds/Spklvr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wakes up to find himself and Hannibal still alive, despite his best efforts. There is no going back to his old life anymore, but now he must decide whether Hannibal is part of his new one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen to Heaven

“Will?” an all too familiar voice spoke quietly into his ear and Will turned away from it. He stared into a room of dark wooden floors and walls, lit by candles and a stone fireplace. No sign of electricity or running water. He lay on a bed that smelled of animal hide, mold and faintly of dog. Hadn’t he so strongly felt Hannibal’s presence behind him, he would have thought he was in heaven. He turned around, his body sore and aching from the movement, and faced him. 

“Hello, Hannibal,” Will said. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that they were both still alive, as much as he had intended for them not to be. Hannibal was wearing the same clothes as they had been that night. Still bloodstained and torn. He was sitting on a handmade chair made of wood and deer remains next to the window, engulfed in the darkness coming from outside. When he leaned forward, it was not with the same grace as usual. He too was in pain, and apparently, there was no need to hide this from Will anymore. 

“Your fever is down,” he said as the back of his hand slid from Will’s temple down to his chin. “One of your wounds became infected. I must admit, I was not confident you would make it. I am glad you did.”

“Where are we?” Will tried to sit, but Hannibal gently pushed him back down. 

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Still in Virginia or Maryland I believe. We can’t have gone far. Perhaps across Chesapeake Bay.” He stood, slowly, and walked carefully to the fireplace. There was a plastic bucket placed in front of it, and as Hannibal returned to his bed, he could hear the swishing of the water in it. Will let Hannibal clean him with a cloth, lukewarm from being close to the fire. The act didn’t feel as sensual as it normally would have, which made Will realize he had indeed been close to death.

“What’s the plan?” Will asked, as Hannibal moved the blankets down to wash Will’s bare chest. The act somehow still strictly medical. “I assume you have one.”

“For now, I quite like it here.” Will raised an eyebrow at that. He couldn’t quite imagine Hannibal enjoying the rustic lifestyle, at least not for a long time. Temporarily, he might see the beauty in the quiet simplicity of nature, but soon his desire for the finer things would take over. That was, unless being with Will made up for it.

Will had been hesitant to admit that Hannibal really was in love with him. Not because Hannibal couldn’t love, as many people seemed to believe, because Hannibal could love, and his love was far too strong. It was because he was scared of what Hannibal’s love would do to him, and possibly an annoyance that Bedelia might have known something about Hannibal that Will hadn’t seen. 

“Will, how do you feel?” Hannibal asked as he put the cloth away and covered Will with blankets again, tucking him in like a child.

“Are you asking as a medical doctor or as a psychiatrist?” 

“I am both.” He smiled, but his eyes were melancholic. 

“Physically, I am in pain, but I’ve felt worse. If I don’t move, there is only a slight ache coming from where I was wounded. Nothing to suggest internal bleedings. Emotionally, I am numb.” He forced a similar melancholic smile. 

“That might be for the better. Let us focus on healing your body before healing your mind.” Will had to chuckle. Hannibal paused as he looked at him, not amused. “I also need to heal,” he continued. “He managed to hurt us worse than I believed he would.”

“You thought he would go easy on us?”

“I put too much faith in your desire to save me.”

“You didn’t. You underestimated my restraint. If it wasn’t for Molly, I would have intervened much sooner. But my desire to do so was always there and it was very strong.”

“Do you want to go back to her?”

“No.” Will turned away from Hannibal again and locked his gaze on a crack in the ceiling. After what he did to Molly, Will didn’t want to look at him while thinking of her, especially since he couldn’t even bring himself to be angry about it. “When I convinced Jack to release you, I knew I had reached the point of no return,” he explained. “Of course, my plan was for the two of us to die together, not live together in a cozy log cabin in the forest.” They both chuckled at that, and Will had to wonder how far down the rabbit hole he had gone to find that statement even remotely amusing. 

“Rest and I will cook you something. I am looking forward to eating the fish you catch when you heal.” He began to stand, but sat back down again as Will reached out his arm, trying to grab him but too weak to do so. 

“Do you think someone is going to find us here?”

“We have been here for two weeks already, and I have yet to see signs of human life. This place looks like it was built by one man, someone wanting to escape humankind as much as you do. Besides him, I do not believe anyone knows about this cabin.”

“Off the grid in other words?”

“Yes.”

There was comfort in that and Will closed his eyes to rest. He was more tired than he had realized earlier. “Are you thirsty?” Hannibal spoke quietly. 

“Yes,” Will said, barely audible. He heard gentle rummaging through creaky wooden cabinets and the clinking of glass. A cup was put against his lips and he was carefully propped up to make it easier to swallow the water. When he was too tired to continue, the cup was put away with a silent thump on the floor and he was laid down again. 

Although almost asleep, Will could tell Hannibal was still right next to him. The weight shifted the bed and Will soon felt Hannibal’s breath on his lips. He wasn’t going to kiss him. He was too polite to kiss him when he was unable to resist or accept. The only thing Will was unsure of when it came to Hannibal now, was which of the two he wanted Will to do. 

***

It was difficult to keep track of the days when falling in and out of consciousness, as the infection still hadn’t completely left his system. Hannibal claimed another three days passed, but to Will it could be years or minutes. However, to Will, one of the greatest beauties of nature was that time didn’t really matter: simultaneously flying by and coming to a halt. When Will could finally go outside, the weather was warmer and flowers were forcing their way up through the fallen leaves, roots and forest debris. 

As he was still staggering, Hannibal helped him outside, letting him lean on him, and bringing a chair from inside that he could sit on. He enjoyed the sun, hoping he would soon be fishing. Walter didn’t like fishing. Not really. Molly forced him to like it to make them bond and Will let her, even though he had often thought they really should let the boy be. It was probably one of the reasons why Walt had always hated him, just a little. 

As he became a little tired, he rested his hand on his face, for a moment forgetting about the wound. There seemed to be compassion in Hannibal’s eyes as Will flinched in the chair at the touch. “I’m not terribly ugly, am I?” he said with a slight chuckle.

“Never.”

Hannibal sat down on the grass next to him. His hair was disheveled and his clothes dirty, but the aura around him was still composed and elegant, never changing. 

“What would happen if I gave in to you?” Will asked, not necessarily to Hannibal, but nobody else was there to respond. 

“I thought you had,” he said, with a slight smirk. 

“No, I have only decided that you truly have taken everything else from me. I am contemplating if I am better off with nothing or with you. I am leaning towards nothing. I really did want you dead. I wanted us both dead.”

“Yet you clung to life.” 

“It’s the body’s faulty instincts. It wants to live and to breed, despite everything in this world suggesting otherwise. Funny how people claim we are better and different from animals when everything we do is based on instinct.” Hannibal made a short sound of agreement, and a bird twittered loudly in the distance, stopping their conversation. “Aren’t you angry that I tried to kill you?” Will asked. 

“You decided to die with me, because you couldn’t live without me. That made me happy. What upset me is the thought that you might have lied to me, that you did not want to be close to me and touch me.”

“I’m not sexually attracted to you, no. Romantically, maybe. But I meant every word I said. I really couldn’t live without you.”

“And doesn’t that mean you made up your mind after all?” He didn’t smirk this time, he was asking genuinely. Their pretense being gone was a little uncomfortable, but it all seemed so pointless to not just be honest. There was no longer a game to be played, just the two of them. 

“I didn’t think we would live,” Will said monotonously, unable to bring himself to show emotions.

“But we did.”

“Are you sure? Because we really shouldn’t have. I keep wondering if maybe I went to heaven and you snuck in with me.” 

“I quite like your heaven,” Hannibal said with a weak smile as he looked at tall trees surrounding their little home. “Perhaps heaven is the mind palace that we build.”

“Then why do you like it? Because this is nothing like your mind palace.” 

“I have a new mind palace.”

Will looked at Hannibal whose gentle smile had turned cocky and clever. “Really?” he asked, surprised. “What is the new palace?”

“You.”

Will needed some seconds to process that. “Wow!” he finally said, realizing Hannibal was serious. “That was… cheesy. You really are in love with me, aren’t you?”

“It really was rather obvious.”

“What does that mean? Being loved by Hannibal Lecter? Do we hold hands as we frolic in the park? Make-out in the back of the movie theatre?” he said, deadpanned.

“I just want you with me.”

“Do we kiss? Do we have sex?”

“I have never derived much pleasure from sex.” 

“But you had sex with Alana and Bedelia?”

“Not for pleasure.”

“For manipulation?” Will asked and Hannibal nodded. “Then you have no desire to touch me? Make love to me?”

“To say there is none would be a lie, but it is not what I desire most from you.”

Will looked away from Hannibal and stared into the distance instead. “I’ve never been interested in men that way. I can’t remember even questioning my sexuality at any point during my adolescence. I’ve enjoyed sex with women, and haven’t given it much thought beyond that. What about you? Do you consider yourself one sexuality or the other?”

“I am attracted to the person, not the gender.”

Will wanted to make a snide comment, but was slightly taken aback by the way Hannibal was looking at him. In a way, he appeared puzzled. In a way, because it also looked like he believed to have the answer, but was puzzled that Will didn’t. “What are you thinking?” 

“I am somewhat surprised by your response and lack in your usual insight. At least, I was under the impression that for you, as sex was a tool for manipulation for me, was a tool to regain normalcy for you. Despite the strong desire to be alone, with only the dogs for company, you still craved to be just like everyone else. To be a part of a different pack.”

“Instinct again. The human desire to be accepted by the pack is hard to fight. But don’t worry, you beat it to a bloody pulp and it’s not getting back up again.”

Hannibal stood, but stopped himself and fell to the ground again. Will wasn’t strong enough to assist him, but Hannibal was too full of pride to let him, even now. “You got a bullet through your stomach,” Will said, emotionless. “You have to be careful as well.”

“Perhaps,” he said, smirking through the pain he undoubtedly felt. 

“If we actually were in heaven, I think we’d be in better condition.” Will forced himself up from the chair, his body sore and weak, before assisting Hannibal back into the cabin and into a chair. “Do you need anything?”

He pointed at a box by the fireplace and Will brought it to him and opened it. Blood was seeping through Hannibal’s shirt. He unbuttoned it and exposed his bleeding wound before going through the box’s content. “What do you need?” he asked. Hannibal had turned the box into a medi-kit, using a mix of fishing tools as well as actual medical equipment one would find in the kind of advanced medi-kit one would own when living far from civilization in the woods

Without much care, Hannibal ripped off the bandage he had placed and began to pull out the broken fishing line stitches. “Hand me the needle and the matches,” he said, not sounding like he was in as much pain as he ought to be. Will struck the matches as Hannibal prepared the needle. He felt obligated to help, for some reason. “The wound was stretched by the fall,” Hannibal explained as he ran the needle under the flame Will held. 

Once the needle was sterile, he began to retrace the old stitches. Only parts of the wound had torn, and there he moved the stitches around the old paths. “Have you considered cauterization?” Will asked, a sarcasm in his tone, as he handed him gauze to let him apply pressure to the wound. The comment received an amused glare.

“That would be a last resort,” he said. Hannibal continued to apply pressure, but suddenly looked at Will with curious eyes, and it suddenly dawned on him that he was staring at Hannibal very intently. Before Hannibal could question him verbally, Will moved close to him and briefly kissed Hannibal’s lips. Kissing a man wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Although Hannibal had shaved with razors laying around in the bathroom, his face was still rough with graying stubble against Will’s own bearded face. It didn’t necessarily do anything for him, however. Hannibal looked happy, and he wasn’t sure if that was something he should be pleased about accomplishing. If anyone deserved the pain of being shot in the stomach, it was Hannibal. It was nothing in comparison to the pain he had inflicted on his victims, on the people Will loved, on Will himself. 

“Tell me what to do and I’ll cook something for you,” Will said. The cupboards above the homemade kitchen counters were filled with canned foods, as if someone was preparing for the apocalypse. He picked some soup and walked over to Hannibal with it and showed him. He nodded in approval and will poured it into the pot over the fireplace that always made the room a bit too hot considering the temperature outside. Will wanted to question why he wanted to help him, but he knew. He cared for Hannibal. He wanted him around. As long as no one else was around, it didn’t matter. He could want Hannibal. He was tired of feeling guilty about it. 

***

As their wounds turned to scars, Will and Hannibal began to venture outside. They walked far, but couldn’t find signs of human life anywhere. It suited Will just fine. Hannibal was probably only fine for the time being. Once he was back to full health, he would want to return to the city. Or some city. Probably somewhere in Europe. Will wasn’t sure he wanted to come along or not, but if Hannibal would agree to somewhere with a big garden near the woods, he would be okay with it. And dogs. He would want dogs again. Hannibal appeared to have a fondness for them as well, so that probably wasn’t going to be a problem. 

Whoever lived in the cabin loved to fish and hunt. Will was quick to find a suitable river and head there with the fishing pole and tools he found in a shed. Fishing soothed him. Standing by the edge of a river, hearing nothing but the quiet sounds of the forest, yet too preoccupied feeling for the pull of a fish to think. Although the wind still carried a chill, the sun was warm on his face. He closed his eyes and could say he was in fact happy now. After everything that had happened, his loved ones were finally safe from both the Dragon and Hannibal, safe from him. As long as everyone thought he was dead, nobody would hold him accountable. He never had to care about another human being in his entire life. He never had to feel someone else inside his head, taking over his mind and soul. Except for Hannibal that is, but it was too late to do anything about that. 

Something pulled at the line, and Will slowly reeled it in. A medium sized catfish. Good enough for a solid dinner for the two of them. Will couldn’t go another day eating canned food. No matter how much Hannibal managed to improve them, it was still year old food from a tin can. 

He walked back to the cabin at a leisurely pace, enjoying the weather and taking time to look for traces of deer. He might go hunting another day. As he reached the cabin, he was surprised to see Hannibal gone. Will assumed he might have gone looking for plants for cooking the fish. It was like Hannibal to do such a thing. In the meantime, Will began the gutting. He carried a small table outside and covered it with layers of old newspapers before he began to remove the scales with a knife, working slowly, as he could afford to do so. There was nothing he had to do after this. Hopefully never. 

The calm was suddenly interrupted by an awful mechanical sound. As he was too engrossed in his task, it took long before he was able to recognize it. A large car was heading down the barely visible road to the house and a man jumped out. He was big, but elderly. Exactly the type of person Will had thought lived here. Someone calloused by weather and manual labour, with gray hair turning white at the top, wearing practical and muted clothing. He was holding a rifle and had it pointed at Will. He put his hands up as the man approached him, his eyes flaring. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” Will said. “We got lost and needed to relax here for a while. We were hurt really badly.” He hoped the old man wouldn’t recognize him, that Hannibal’s was the only face plastered to the news, but as he came closer, it became clear that he did. The man backed up a little, and looked around them. 

“Get inside!” he shouted. Will did as he asked him to. The man forced him up to the counters at the other end of the house and he made sure to place himself so that he could not be surprised from behind. He probably knew about Hannibal. “I’m going to call the police,” the man said and picked up his phone. 

They were going to find them. Will would have to face them all again. Molly, Jack, Alana, Chilton, and everything that had happened to them because of him. As quickly as the thought had occurred to him, he found himself standing above the old man. His skull was cracked open and his blood was pooling on the floor, drowning the outdated cellphone that a voice spoke from, but it was too low to hear. In his hand, Will held a bloodied hammer, with the remains of skin and white and gray hairs still on it, which he could somewhat remember picking up. Actual swinging it at the old man’s head was just a foggy memory. He swung the hammer at the phone as well. A couple of times. 

While making sure his feet didn’t step in the blood, an old habit he was too far gone to realize he was doing, he put his fingers on the man’s pulse, and as he touched it, it slowed to a halt. He walked outside for some air, but he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He hoped for a stab of guilt, but there was none of that. No heart pounding or shortening of breath. If anything, he felt relief. Nobody was going to find them. A scratching noise coming from the car brought him out of his trance-like state. A dog, a bushy English Setter with dark brown spots, was inside the car, pawing at the door to get out. It wasn’t locked, and Will opened it for her. She sniffed Will’s hand and started for the cabin, but Will stopped her. She looked a little confused, but still happy. Her tag said Lucy.

“Hi, Lucy,” he said, and she was excited to hear her name and licked Will’s face. Blood got smudged on her snout. 

“Will,” Hannibal said. Will turned to him. He was standing directly behind him, having crept up on him like Hannibal usually did, looking unfazed by the blood spattered on Will’s face and clothes. “Did we get a dog?” Hannibal asked, with a humorous tone in his voice. He reached out his hand and let Lucy sniff it, then scratched behind her ear. 

Hannibal’s attention didn’t stay on them for very long. He looked to the cabin with an expression Will couldn’t make out, but he took a deep breath through his nose. Will figured he might be excited for what was waiting for him inside. Will found a leash inside the car and tied Lucy to the back of the cabin. He wanted to get rid of the body before she saw it. Once he returned to the front, Hannibal had gone inside.

Will started for the cabin, walking slowly, but Hannibal came back out again before he could reach it, dragging the body along with him. Will watched him hang the man from a tree by tying a rope around his fingers, throwing it over a thick branch and pulling him up. With the knife Will had used earlier, still covered in fish scales and blood, Hannibal slowly sliced open the old man’s throat and drained him of blood. It poured over his face like a thin, red mask before reaching the ground. Once the blood stopped flowing, he used the same knife to open the man’s abdomen. Even more blood came out, but Hannibal, experienced with gutting as he was, avoided the spill. 

He rolled up the sleeves on his sweater and put his arm inside the guts. With slow precision, Hannibal removed the liver, held it in one hand as he inspected it closely, and finally turned to Will, making Will realize he truly had been there to witness what had just happened, and not just replayed the events in his head. Without saying a word, Hannibal handed the liver to Will. Will held it with both hands. It was wet and hot. He walked slowly inside, leaving Hannibal to continue mutilating the body. He covered the kitchen counter with some newspaper and placed the liver on it. The blood soaked the newspaper. Will touched his pulse. It was slow and steady. 

***

While Hannibal prepared the meat, Will boiled canned tomatoes and beans over the fireplace. Hannibal drizzled herbs he found in the forest into the pot, then fed the pieces of the liver he was not pleased with to Lucy, who had curled up on a blanked by the fireplace. The meat that suited his standards were fried on a cooking plate on the fire next to the tomatoes and beans.

Up until then, their food had been consumed in a simple fashion, with each of them sitting on the couch or bed with the bowl of food in their lap. Much like Will liked to eat. Now they were going to dine the way Hannibal wanted. He set the table with enthusiasm, somehow managing to make the dingy cabin beautiful with only simple candles and white sheets as tablecloths. Will watched with detached fascination while taking in the scent of cooking human flesh, a scent all too familiar. 

Hannibal pulled out a chair for Will and invited him to sit. Still finding the whole situation somewhat surreal, Will sat down as he beckoned for him. Hannibal put his hand softly on Will’s shoulder and Will turned his head to look at it. It appeared that Hannibal was making sure everything looked good from Will’s point of view as well, and he repositioned one of the candles slightly. Will agreed the new placement was more aesthetically pleasing. A plate was gently placed in front of him and Hannibal sat on the other side, facing him. He looked to Will, waiting for him to taste the meat on the plate with anticipation. 

The fork pierced the perfectly cooked meat and Will held it up in front of his mouth, switching his gaze between it and Hannibal’s eager expression. He finally put it in his mouth and Hannibal’s was clearly satisfied as he watched Will chew, and as Will acknowledged the good taste with a pleased hum, Hannibal started to eat as well. There was something about eating something you had caught and killed yourself. Will knew that well after a lifetime of fishing. Apparently it counted for people as well. 

“With this, I suppose I have made up my mind,” Will said.

“Then you have decided to stay with me?” It was said more like a statement than a question, and Hannibal waited for Will’s confirmation. 

“Yes.”

Once the dishes were cleaned and the table put away, Will walked up to the bed and stopped to stare at it. Hannibal came up besides him and looked at him. He was curious what Will would do. Will was curious what Will would do. He grabbed Hannibal and sat him on the bed. Will had expected him to look smug that this was finally happening, but instead he just looked happy, making Will hesitate. 

Will began to remove his clothes, with Hannibal mimicking his order and pace, keeping them equally dressed, and then naked, at all times. He wanted to show Will that he considered him an equal and he didn’t want to scare him off. Will appreciated the gesture. Their last item of clothing was neatly put away. While Hannibal appeared fascinated with Will’s naked body, Will still couldn’t bring himself to be physically attracted to Hannibal.The thick blonde chest hair, the soft stomach, not to mention the penis, made it all very clear he was sleeping with a man. Yet his loving gaze and thinking about what was about to happen created a reaction in his body and an almost childish tingle in his toes at the anticipation of his body being touched by someone else. 

As much as he had loved Molly, she had never given him that feeling. Alana had, in the beginning, before Hannibal almost literally consumed his mind. Hannibal ran his long, soft fingers down the middle of Will’s belly to his pubic hair. Will gasped weakly and held on to Hannibal’s shoulder. Those warm brown eyes looked up at him, waiting for Will to take the lead. Will suddenly wasn’t sure if it was about equality or if Hannibal enjoyed knowing that Will wanted him, at last. He put his hand on the back of Hannibal’s head, gently clutched his hair and pulled him towards his growing cock. Hannibal closed his eyes and looked as if he was about to devour one of his own home cooked meals. 

As he disappeared in between Hannibal’s lips and his warm tongue wrapped around him, Will momentarily considered whether Hannibal would eat him quite literally. The pleasure arriving at the base of his cock from the top made him forget the fear. His knees became weak and as he noticed, Hannibal wrapped his arms around him. Will’s cock was released and Hannibal sat back on the bed, allowing Will to straddle him. With Will in his lap, legs straddled around him and their erect penises pressed together, Hannibal began to kiss Will’s neck. Gently nibbling at his flesh as his soft fingers brushed up Will’s back and up his neck where Hannibal gripped down firmly, pulling their bodies even closer together. 

Will found himself staring down Hannibal’s back while their hips thrust against each other. The friction caused spasms of pleasure in him. Just as Hannibal caressed him, Will began to caress all the fading bruises and scars on his back. Some of the scars appeared to be from long ago, before they met. Remembering that such a time existed became more and more difficult. All of a sudden, Hannibal grabbed Will’s jaw and made Will face him. He stared into his eyes, forcing Will to keep eye contact. “I love you, Will,” he said. Although he had implied it to be true, he had never said it out loud before. 

The love he felt from Hannibal was too strong, and he broke eye contact and kissed him violently, hoping it would make him forget to ask for a response. Will came abruptly as Hannibal’s finger slid down between his cheeks to his hole, creating an altogether new sensation for him, and gasped audibly inside Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal pumped the orgasm out of him with medical precision and knowledge. As the ripples of pleasure settled and Will rested his forehead on Hannibal’s shoulder, Hannibal pushed him down on the bed and made Will touch him. Will took a moment to let his fingers slowly run up and down the soft skin of Hannibal’s cock, having never touched another man before. He had expected it to feel like his own, but Hannibal’s was longer and the pubic hair softer. His ear was playfully tugged and Will took that as a sign that he ought to hurry up. He started rubbing it more rapidly. Hannibal grunted softly next to his ear as he orgasmed and their semen mixed as their stomachs touched when Hannibal lied down on top of him. 

His brain hurt, and he wanted to sleep. Feeling Hannibal’s warm body next to him made him feel even sleepier and when Hannibal left the bed, Will had to stop himself from reaching for him. Hannibal picked up a moist cloth from the bucket by the fireplace, and Will watched as he washed himself off, before he returned to Will and does the same to him. The moist cloth feels good on his chest and stomach, and Hannibal’s gaze was intense and sensual and his hands moved slowly down Will’s body. Even when they are cleaned up, Hannibal still doesn’t return to bed. Instead he walks away, but Will is too exhausted to open his eyes and decides it doesn’t matter and in sleepy childishness violently pulls the blankets over his body. 

Suddenly Will can hear the lovely and familiar sound of four paws making their way through the room. Finally Hannibal lays down next to him, and gently puts his arms around him. Lucy follows quickly after and makes a spot for herself at the bottom of the bed, warming their feet. Will realizes that now they really can’t stay there forever. The man he killed will be missed. To be safe, it would be best if they left the next day. Will forces his eyes open and makes a conscious effort to make sure he remembers every detail of his mind palace.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this since the day after the finale... That may suggest that I'm a slow writer, but I want to continue this story if people are interested. I want to keep this potential series canon, but I'm open to prompts and suggestions. Also check out my Hannibal AU that I'm writing until I get inspiration for this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4971628/chapters/11418187


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